


The Higher You Go

by Fawn4Life



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Chat Noire - Freeform, F/F, Fem!Chat, Female Adrien Agreste, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawn4Life/pseuds/Fawn4Life
Summary: The higher you go, the harder you fall. And Paris needs its superheroes, no matter how hard they fall.





	1. Chapter One

It's five minutes past midnight and Chat's flying high, a little more than a black shadow hurtling above the streets of Paris. A joyous laugh escapes her mouth. She's free for the night, the shackles of civilian life no longer chaining her to the ground. The irony that slipping on a mask helps rather than hinder her freedom is noted in the back of her mind, but not something that she wants to acknowledge. Not just yet.

Beside her, her Lady shoots her an amused smile. “What's so funny, chaton?”

“Nothing, my Lady!” she shouts back. Her grin is wild, eyes bright like emeralds as she soaks in the atmosphere of Paris at night. It's beautiful, the way the city seems to glow under her gaze. She loves being the one to protect it and its citizens from harm, like a comic book hero. Ladybug and Chat Noire, Paris' own superhero duo. 

Still, even heroes need to rest their feet, and this hero is no exception. Especially after jumping from roof to roof for the past two hours. “This cat's ready for a quick nap, how about a small break!”

Ladybug doesn't say anything, but at the next leap they take, she leads them over to a rooftop and comes to a stop. Pleased, Chat angles her body just so, landing on the thin railing that surrounds the area with an ease that Olympic gymnasts would envy.

A polka dotted hand runs through blonde hair, making her purr in delight. “You're going to fall off one of these days if you're not careful, you know.”

“Oh ye of little faith. Cats have expert reflexes, don't you know?” Chat's tempted to sprawl out on her side and ask Ladybug to draw her like one of her French girls, but the last time she did that, Ladybug had actually pushed her off of the rooftop.

“Cats do, but I've seen a pigeon startle you off a ledge.” Ladybug's laughter tinkles in her ear like bells, a lovely sound that makes her heart flutter in her chest. “Fifteen minutes, okay? We still have one more section to patrol tonight.”

“I love it when you get all strict on me, Ladybug. Me-yow.” She claws at the air playfully, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Hush, silly kitty.” The hand leaves her head to flick her on the nose and Chat claims a victory at the way Ladybug's smile lights up the rooftop, because she was the one that put it there. Sometimes she even entertains the thought that her Lady feels the same way that she does. Her flights of fancy never last long, but they're enough to make her feel warm and stave off the chilly bite of autumn.

Grasping at her chest, Chat gasps in mock pain. “You wound me, my Lady!”

“Do I?” Ladybug's voice is dry. “Do you want me to kiss it better, chaton?”

“Is that an offer I hear?” Puckering her lips, Chat's not surprised when she feels a finger brush against her mouth. “Rejected again, how my heart aches. Nevertheless, let me be the first to say how lovely you look today, Ladybug.”

A very unladylike snort escapes her partner. “Chat Noire, I wear the same thing every time you see me.” Her tone is fond though, and it earns her a wink from Chat as she shifts to a sitting position, hands clenched around cold steel to keep herself upright.

“True, therefore you must look lovely every day.” That garners startled laughter, and Chat's cheeks hurt from how wide she's grinning.

“You're incorrigible!”

“I'm dashing.”

Their banter flows as easily as breathing, and every syllable takes Chat higher and higher until she's practically drunk on happiness. These nights, sitting on a cold rooftop with Ladybug are the best nights of her life. Winning fencing competitions, being Paris' next up and coming model, those have nothing on being with her Lady.

Speaking of her Lady... There's something about the way Ladybug looks in the moonlight that sends Chat Noire's heart into a tailspin. Not that Ladybug doesn't look good in the morning, or afternoon, or well, whenever really, but the way the soft glow of the moon halos Ladybug's spotted frame is almost ethereal. It's enchanting. Captivating. Chat feels like she should be on her knees in front of Ladybug sometimes. Worshiping her Lady and giving offerings of prayers and sacrifices to her like the goddess she is.

“You're doing it again, chaton.”

“Hmm..?”

The slightest bit of pink dusts Ladybug's cheeks underneath her mask. “You'd think I hung the stars in the sky, judging from your look.”

“My apologies, my Lady. I can't help it though, you're breathtaking. If you said that you had hung the stars, I'd believe you whole heartedly.” Chat's voice is matter-of-fact, and that only seems to fluster Ladybug more. She watches, amused, as Ladybug's face cycles through a range of emotions. Irritation, embarrassment, fondness, before finally settling on exasperation, complete with an eyeroll long enough that Chat hopes those gorgeous blue eyes aren't stuck like that forever.

She's waiting for it. _“Then you need glasses, chaton”_ or _“it's a shame you don't have an oxygen mask with you, Chat Noire.”_ Something witty, as her Lady is wont to do. It's part of their game, after all.

“Regardless, you know I have feelings for someone else, Chat,” Ladybug says finally, and Chat blinks in surprise. Real talk was never an option, only light jests and gentle teasing. Something is off, and suddenly the moon seems far too bright behind Ladybug, hiding her face completely in shadows. Slipping from her perch on the railing, Chat's feet touch solid concrete and she tilts her head away to look out at the city lights. If they blur together, only she can tell.

“I know.”

“And yet you flirt with me anyways.”

“It's part of my charming personality, don't you know?” She's proud when her voice doesn't crack, throwing up an air of forced casualness. There's tension running down her spine, and she's amazed it hasn't broken yet. “Does it bother you?”

Silence reigns. Below them, the occasional car drives by, sounding as loud as a freight train each time. Chat's heartbeat is even louder in her ears.

“... My Lady?” It comes out hesitant. She's not sure why now of all times, their banter has faded into something else entirely. It's off script, and she's thrown off balance. Flirty comment, witty remark, equally witty comeback, gentle shut down. That's how it always is. Why Ladybug has changed their game, she's not sure, but now she's walking on a tightrope instead of a sidewalk without any sort of warning.

“It doesn't, not really anyways.” There's an edge to her voice that isn't really an edge. A softness? A waver? Chat isn't sure what it really sounds like, but it has her stomach clenching. She knows that Ladybug knows about her feelings. She knows that Ladybug knows that she knows. They were always there, out in the open but never acknowledged as anything serious. Both her and Ladybug preferred it that way.

“What does that mean, not really?”

“It means exactly that, chaton. I don't dislike it, but...” Ladybug trails off, a frown on glossy lips that Chat wishes she could kiss away. She hates herself for putting the frown there in the first place. Wishes she had been able to gaze at her Lady without awe, putting her on the spot.

 _Hehe, spot._ It's not funny, but it's something that she can cling to at that moment. Something to ground her so she doesn't go running off into the night like a wounded animal.

“But what?” she presses. “You don't dislike it, but what?”

“I have feelings for someone else,” Ladybug repeats, that not-an-edge tone back. It sounds like pity, sounds like when Chat has to play civilian and has to tell one of her fans that gosh, she's extremely flattered but she's so sorry and she can't reciprocate-

Oh.

Well, she already knew that.

Chat just doesn't get why now. Why now instead of months ago? Instead of when they had first met? Her feelings weren't new, they had been there from the first time they had met and Ladybug had introduced herself, right before they had defeated Coeur de Pierre and had only grown stronger since then. Her words were nothing new either. Not a day went by when she wasn't jokingly asking Ladybug on a date or wax poetic on her Lady's beauty.

Had she... had she finally crossed some invisible line? Stumbling across it without realizing? Did she make Ladybug uncomfortable somehow? What had she done that was different?

Her mind is both static and frenzied, a maelstrom of buzzing white noise that's making it hard to hear or think or speak or breathe even. Each exhale of air feels shaky, and her chest also feels shaky, and her legs feel shaky, and her eyes feel shaky-

“Chat?”

Except that's silly, because eyes can't be shaky, so obviously they're not shaky-

“Chat Noire?”

Nothing is shaking, she's not trembling but maybe her world is because it certainly feels like her world is crumbling out from below her-

There's weight on her shoulder, and Chat's not shaking eyes dart up to meet Ladybug's. They're beautiful and blue and filled to the brim with concern.“You're my friend, Chat,” Ladybug says slowly. Deliberately. “I would do anything for you, you know that.”

“I know.” Chat certainly does know. They've both risked their lives for each other more than once. Ladybug's hand leaves her shoulder, and the lingering warmth has Chat realizing just how cold she is.

“But I can't do that. It wouldn't be fair to you.”

So, so cold.

She can read the apologies in her Lady's eyes. A thousand of them swirling like waves in a storm, intent on drowning Chat. Capsizing her and pulling her under until the air leaves her lungs for good in an ocean of 'I'm sorry's'. She'd gladly suffer those tides if it meant just one moment with Ladybug.

“I know,” she chokes out. “But what if I don't care about fair?”

“Oh _Chat..._ ”

A hand cups her cheek, and a spandex clad thumb rubs underneath her mask. When it pulls away, Chat can see it glisten. There's a heartbroken look on Ladybug's face, and for a split second Chat wishes a butterfly would land on her and akumatize her because what right does she have to look so hurt when Chat is _right here_ and _hurting_ and it's her heart breaking, not Ladybug's so maybe Chat should _break her instead-_

“Don't cry, chaton. Please...”

Arms slip around her and Chat's head is resting in the crook of Ladybug's neck, one cat ear brushing against a pale cheek. Above her, she can hear Ladybug's whispers. She's sorry, so sorry. She wishes that she could return Chat's feelings but she _can't_ and she _doesn't want things to change_ because she _does love Chat, truly, but only as a friend._

“I love you too, my Lady,” she whispers back, voice choked. 

Chat can feel her hair grow damp. She never wanted to be the reason for her Lady's tears. Never wanted to make her Lady hurt. She'd rather kill herself than bring Ladybug pain. Paris needs their hero safe and whole and happy, and so does Chat. 

She's not sure how long they stay there like that, Ladybug holding her like a lover would and Chat clinging, afraid to let go lest her Lady disappear forever, but it's not long enough. The world keeps moving, in the form of a siren's wail off in the distance. Chat can hear the roar of an akuma and the sound of glass breaking.

Idly, she wonders if that roar will belong to her soon.

It hurts to let go of Ladybug, especially when Chat knows that that was the closest she's ever going to be to her Lady, but she does it with a smile. “Duty calls.”

“But-”

Her lips don't falter, smile widening. Ladybug's form is blurry. 

“Ladies first.”

Chat won't blink.

“Chat-”

“Ladybug, _please_ ,” she pleads, tone too cheerful to be anything but forced, and all too soon she hears the sound of her Lady's yoyo being thrown, wire unwinding from its core like Chat herself is unwinding.

When she flings herself off of the ledge after Ladybug, a part of her doesn't want to unclip her baton from her belt.

But she does.

Paris needs its heroes, after all.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a squeezing feeling around her heart now that never goes away.

There's a squeezing feeling around her heart now that never goes away. It doesn't hurt, per say -except it does, oh _god_ how it does- but it's there and it's uncomfortable. Some days more than others. 

Today is one of those days.

Adrienne sits in class, pencil diligently scratching against paper as she writes down notes, doing her best to pretend that she's fine. 

Because she is (not) fine.

It's not like there's an iron band around her heart, after all. It's not like there's a polka dotted hand cradling it within her ribs, slender fingers threatening to close into a fist around the soft vulnerable organ. It's not like the walls are closing in and her breath is catching and her heart is threatening to beat right out of her chest in its quest to keep from shattering-

“-rienne. Adrienne!”

She startles, pencil falling from numb fingers with a clatter. Concerned brown eyes stare into hers, and Adrienne wonders how long Nino has been calling her name.

“Yeah?” 

A warm hand rests on her shoulder. “You okay, man? The bell rang and you didn't so much as twitch.” Nino's mouth is pulled downwards in a frown. “You've been... out of it for a while now. Something happen?”

A hysterical giggle bubbles up in her chest, but Adrienne squashes it back down through sheer force of will. Of course something happened, her Lady broke her heart and broke her as well, and now Adrienne feels like a shell of her former self. Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again because you know what, maybe talking to Nino will lighten the crushing weight that she feels on her shoulders.

“Just... tired,” is what comes out instead. She fakes a yawn, hiding it behind her hand. “My father's new line is launching soon, so I've had to do more shoots lately.”

“Dude, you need to tell your dad to shove it. For like, a day or two, at least. I'm pretty sure this could be classified as child abuse.”

She's not sure if she should be happy or not with how easily Nino accepted her lie, but it does make a genuine smile come to her lips when Nino tells her that he'll beat up Mr. Agreste for her if she asks him to. This time there's real laughter.

“I appreciate the thought, but I'll be fine, Nino.”

She's fine.

She's fine.

She'll... be fine.

Bidding Nino goodbye, Adrienne slips her bag onto her shoulders and trots out of class with her head held high. 

So what if Ladybug doesn't feel the same? She had already known that. Had already known that there was someone else in her Lady's heart that wasn't her. Could never be her. It's not like Ladybug hadn't warned her, even. Ladybug had been nothing but honest that she'd never return Adrienne's feelings. They were partners, friends, but could never be more.

She had already _known_ that, so why did Ladybug- 

Why did she have to-

The air is knocked out of her lungs as Adrienne hits the floor, a sharp pain stabbing the back of her skull. A weight rests on her chest, which struggles to rise as she wheezes.

“Oh shoot, Adrienne! I'm so sorry!”

The weight disappears, and Adrienne cracks open one eye to see glossy blue hair and a panicking face. “Marinette.”

She can see how Marinette's cheeks darken. Probably from embarrassment. After all, it's not every day that someone gets bowled over in the halls… Actually, knowing Marinette's penchant for clumsiness, it could be every day. Which would be terribly unfortunate since-

“-okay?”

“I'm sorry?” 

Marinette's eyebrows are furrowed, baby blues staring at Adrienne with worry. There isn't a hint of a blush on her cheeks now. “I asked if you were okay. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to run into you, I swear. It's just, I had forgotten my sketchbook back in class and I really wanted to work on my project tonight and so I was coming back to get it and-”

“Marinette, take a breath.” She smiles warmly. “I'm fine, promise. Although you really shouldn't be running in the halls.”

“Right, yeah.” Marinette giggles and oh, she's blushing again. “Sorry again! For falling for- on! On you!”

What a strange girl.

Adrienne pushes herself up, brushing herself off with a few well placed pats before offering Marinette a hand up. There's the slightest hesitation from Marinette, before slim fingers slide against her palm. It's a pleasant touch.

Almost familiar, except it really isn't, and shame on Adrienne for projecting her thoughts and feelings on her friend. Shaking her head with a little wince, she pulls Marinette up with ease. Perhaps too much ease even, because Marinette is suddenly pressed against her. Sometimes Adrienne forgets just how much her strength has been augmented thanks to the ring on her finger.

Unbidden, her other hand comes up behind Marinette's back, encircling her in a loose hug. She knows she's being weird, but she can't help it. Marinette's presence has always been comforting, and Adrienne needs comfort desperately. She's being selfish, clinging to Marinette like this without any explanation. She knows that.

She's just about to pull away and apologize when Marinette's arms wrap around her gently. It feels nice. Relaxing even. Tension that Adrienne didn't even know was in her seeps out, shoulders slumping. Her mind calming, the pain in her head gentling to a dull throb that she barely even notices. Anyone could see them then, standing in the middle of the hallway, but Adrienne doesn't care. She's just so _relieved_. And thankful. The last time she had hugged someone was-

Her shoulders shake.

The last person she had hugged was Ladybug.

“Adrienne...?”

Marinette's voice is a whisper. Something barely there. A hand reaches up, halting, skittish as a newborn colt. It rests against her cheek before pulling back, fingers wet. The movement is so familiar it hurts. Ladybug had done that too, last time. And now Marinette was looking at her with the exact same look, eyes shining and eyebrows furrowed behind that spotted mask-

_It's not her. Stop it._

She laughs awkwardly, stepping back. Away from Marinette and her warmth and the smell of sugar and baked goods that Adrienne would never say was one of her favorite scents because her mother used to bring her sweets from the Boulangerie Patisserie when she was a child. “Sorry. I must've hit my head when we fell.”

Her heart aches.

“Really though, don't worry about it,” she hastily adds, cutting Marinette off. “I'll be fine. I need to go, my ride is waiting for me. I'll see you in class tomorrow.” And then she's gone before her friend can say anything else, running away even as her feet take slow, measured steps towards the front doors. She's an idiot. Adrienne, not Marinette. Crying over nothing (even though it's not nothing to her) in front of Marinette like a baby. Using her so selfishly for comfort. She wouldn't be surprised if Marinette avoided her like the plague now. 

The ride home is long.

Gorilla is silent in the driver's seat, although Adrienne can see his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror every so often. Worried. 

Everyone's worried. Gorilla. Nathalie. Nino. Marinette. Plagg.

Well, maybe not everyone.

Not her father.

And she's not bitter about that. Not at _all_. She gets it, that he's a busy man with a busy life running one of the biggest fashion companies in the world. But... she wishes that he would come check on her like he used to before her mother disappeared. 

She wishes that he cared about her life. About her. Even a little.

Evening rolls around quickly. Too quickly. Adrienne realizes with a start that she's in her room, laying in bed. Plagg is settled on top of her chest, snoozing quietly. It's something that she's been noticing more, the way she goes and does things now. Like autopilot. Not quite there mentally and all wrapped up in her thoughts. She must have eaten at some point since she's not hungry, but she doesn't remember doing so.

Heaving a sigh, Adrienne rests a hand on Plagg's small body. She feels bad; she's the only person he has to talk to, and she certainly hasn't been much of a talker lately.

Or much of a friend.

He hasn't complained once about it either which just makes her feel worse. Plagg is a notorious complainer so the fact that he hasn't said anything about her moods...

Well, she'll make it up to him. Get him a nice wheel of the stinkiest Camembert she can find.

Plagg mumbles in his sleep as her fingers stroke his back, fur soft against her skin. If she didn't think he'd be so smug about it, she'd ask how he got his fur that silky smooth. She's not sure how much time passes as she lays there petting him, but it's long enough that her phone eventually beeps, signaling that it's time to patrol.

God, she doesn't want to patrol.

Still, the sound is enough to rouse Plagg from his slumber, and Adrienne can't help but smile when sleepy green eyes turn up towards her. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she teases gently.

He lets out a good natured grumble, whiskers twitching as he stretches. “Some of us are born beautiful,” he sniffs. But he allows Adrienne to scoop him up without a fuss and offer him a bit of cheese, so she counts it as a win. “I've trained you well. Most of my former humans didn't understand the superiority of Camembert to all other cheeses.”

“Well heaven forbid I feed you cheddar or mozzarella,” she says dryly, lips quirking up at her kwami's look of horror. “I wish your obsession could be with a less... smelly food. Do you know how hard it is to keep the scent of cheese from my clothes?”

“Nonsense! It's a wonderful aroma!” 

Plagg's protests have her giggling softly, and she can tell that he's pleased as well with the way his ears flick. It's silly and fun, and has Adrienne feeling lighter if only for a moment.

So it's a shame when her phone goes off again, stealing the smile from her face. A technological thief in the night. Plagg notices too, because there's a soft touch against her chin as he nuzzles her. “We can stay in, you know. Watch a movie or play a game. There's a cheese making documentary that just came out.” His voice is nonchalant, like he didn't just tell her to shirk her duties to Paris and its inhabitants.

“You know we can't.”

“You can,” he retorts. “You're just too noble for your own good, kid.”

“Yeah, well... I suppose if I wasn't, I wouldn't have been chosen to be a miraculous holder.” Sometimes Adrienne wonders if there was a mistake. If someone else shouldn't have been chosen instead of her. 

There are other things that she wonders too. She's been mulling this over for a while now, ever since she found out that there had been previous holders. Had they been like her? Sad and heartbroken? Or had they had a chance with their partners for something more? She hates the flicker of hope in her chest that rises. Ladybug had already given her answer, and she couldn't expect anything else, but-

“... Plagg, can I ask you a question?” Her voice is quiet. 

“Sure, but that doesn't mean I'll answer you.”

As he floats there, Adrienne takes him in. Wonders how something so small could be so full of life -and how he can eat twice his weight in cheese, seriously- and how glad she is to have him by her side. A minute goes by, maybe two. 

“Do you... Did the previous Chat Noire's... Were they in love with their partners too?” she asks at last.

She knows she startled him. He stops floating, almost drops before noticing. His whiskers twitch a few times, eyes shifting to and fro nervously. “... Not all of them, no,” he says finally. “But enough. The cat and ladybug miraculous are opposites, same with the holders. Yin and Yang. Dark and Light. Good luck and-”

“Bad luck,” she finishes. “But did any of them get together?” Her voice is strained. “Please Plagg, I need to know.”

“Adrienne-”

“ _Please._ ”

The kwami sighs. “Rarely. My holders are a bit more... reckless. Offensive where Ti- where the ladybug holders are defensive. So they tend to... well, not stick around as long. Take it from me, you're better off getting over her and finding someone else. Love makes you do stupid things, like throw yourself into harm's way for no reason.”

“Oh...”

Blinking a couple times, Adrienne lets out a shuddery breath. Her heart feels heavy, hope snuffed out with such ease it's almost scary. “Thanks... thanks for telling me, I guess. We should get going.”

Plagg hovers in front of her, eyes full of pity. “You sure?”

She hates pity.

“I'm sure. Plagg, claws out!”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hasn't stopped falling since the day she became a superhero.

She's falling. She hasn't stopped falling since the day she became a superhero. Falling through the sky with no safety nets, no parachutes, no nothing to keep her from hitting the ground at a hundred miles an hour.

And she loves it. 

Because every time she falls, her partner is there to save her, a hand reaching out for Chat to grab just before she hits the floor. She's always there for Chat, waiting with a warm smile as Chat dusts herself off before they go to save the day yet again. And it was that smile that had Chat deciding to take the biggest leap of all-

No.

That was a lie.

She didn't leap. Didn't even get a chance to try. The floor had dropped out from under her with zero warning and she hadn't been prepared. Like something from the cartoons she had watched as a child, where the bad guy pulls a lever and the floor opens up underneath the good guy, sending them careening down into a pit filled with man eating fish, or tigers, or something equally as terrible.

So she fell.

And this time there was no Ladybug to save her from hitting the ground. Nothing to save her from shattering into a thousand pieces or stop her heart from giving out or keep her lungs from collapsing. On her... worse days, Chat imagines a black and red hand pushing her from behind, shoving her off an imaginary platform. On her better days, she realizes that the hand isn't polka dotted, but covered in black and tipped with claws.

She did this to herself, after all.

They don't mention it either, how things have changed between them. Ladybug tries and tries to get her to talk. To laugh. To act like nothing happened. Which she does, but there's a tension in the air now when they patrol, a poisonous fog that she hopes will choke her. She talks and laughs, but it's always forced. The flirting has disappeared.

She's professional.

Courteous.

And miserable.

If she didn't know any better, She'd think Ladybug was miserable too. Her Lady- Ladybug's smile is always tinged in sadness and regret, and if Chat's being honest, it makes her angry because what right did Ladybug have to be sad when she's the one that put them in this situation?

It's hard to deal with. Chat wonders sometimes if she should strike out on her own, be a wild cat beholden to no owner -except she knows it's a lie, even with all that's happened, if Ladybug were to call she'd come running- but she knows in the back of her mind that it's too dangerous. Akuma have been popping up like weeds lately, and if they were to find either her or Ladybug alone, with the other too far away...

Well, it certainly wouldn't be good.

Still, perhaps a quick vacation from her nightly duties isn't such a bad idea. If she keeps a constant eye on the news while not transformed, she can be where the action is almost immediately. Superpowers allowing her to leap tall buildings with a single bound, and all that (or pogo over them, more like).

Plagg has been on her to take one, insisting on it, really. Saying that she's distracted, that she's going to get herself or someone else hurt one of these days. That probably hurts more than anything, the idea that she could cost someone their life because she can't deal with rejection. His words have been echoing in her head constantly since then. 

It's nearing two years, too, a fact that she'd know even if it wasn't plastered over every newspaper and on every website. How could she forget having met Ladybug for the first time? Or falling in love for the first time? She's pretty sure her heart stopped that day. Only briefly, before syncing up to beat in time with a red and black yoyo, tossed and caught over and over again by a girl with lovely bluebell eyes.

Almost two years though... Chat can barely believe how quickly time flies.

They land on a rooftop. Not the same rooftop as before, thankfully -Chat's heart wouldn't have been able to take it- when Chat stops in her tracks. Ladybug's ready to leap to the next one, muscles tense in a way that Chat can't help but admire even now, before she seems to realize that Chat isn't beside her anymore. 

“What is it, chaton? Is something wrong?”

Her mouth opens. Closes. She fiddles with her staff, fingers drumming along smooth metal anxiously. Is something wrong? How could she even say that? What a silly question, honestly. Everything's wrong. Chat's not sure how it's not obvious, except maybe it is and that's why Ladybug is asking.

She's not sure.

“No, my La-”

It's ingrained in her, and to stop the words from spilling out is like drawing blood from a stone, next to impossible. The syllables fall flat, hanging there in the worst way. She sees Ladybug cringe, and Chat's shoulders hunch inwards, head lowered. She wouldn't be surprised if her ears were drooping like an actual cat's, despite the fact that they were as real as Ladybug's feelings for her.

So, not at all.

“... I'm sorry.” Her voice is small and feeble.

“It's fine, Chat. It's just a nickname, it doesn't mean anything.”

It's a lie, they both know it, but Chat parrots her words back. “Yeah, it doesn't mean anything... Listen, Ladybug, I...”

She pauses. Swallows. “I was thinking I might take a break for a while.” 

Chat sees the exact moment it clicks, those beautiful lips pursing into a frown. “Chat, I need you. I can't do this without you,” Ladybug says, and Chat wants to cry because _no she didn't. Obviously._ If Ladybug needed her, truly, they wouldn't be having this conversation. She doesn't need Chat like Chat needs her, and that hurts.

A hand is outstretched towards her, and Chat shrinks back. Clutches her staff like a lifeline, knuckles white under black spandex. She can see how Ladybug's eyes glisten, hand falling limply at her side. The gulf between them has never been larger, infinitely vast and yet only a few feet wide. “Chat...”

“I'll still be watching,” she promises, ignoring the pleading in Ladybug's voice. “I'll still be there if you need me. You know how it is, the news drops everything to chase an akuma story. It's not like I won't know, and I'll be there quick as anything.”

“But you won't be _there._ With me.”

Chat feels like screaming. Like tearing her hair out and howling her frustrations to the world because _That's. The. Point!_ She _needs_ time away from Ladybug to get over this... infatuation of hers. To get her head screwed back on straight. Instead, she clears her throat and looks out towards the city, voice calm and steady. “I need a break,” she repeats.

She's pleased when there isn't the slightest hint of wavering. A wavering voice meant tears, and tears meant weakness. Chat isn't weak. Her life is a strict one, filled with rules and regulations and guidelines. Every minute of every day is scheduled in, and there's simply no time for weakness. 

Besides, if her father, who lost so so so much, could live each day as the head of a multi billion dollar company without showing his pain, then so could she.

Chat isn't weak. She doesn't cry. Ever. Doesn't show her upset, keeping it bottled up and stamped down and held tightly in an iron clad grip to never be seen again.

(Except in front of Ladybug. And Marinette. And Nino. Even Chloe had made an offhanded remark the other day, so perhaps she really isn't as strong as she thinks she is. Gabriel Agreste would be so disappointed if he ever found out.)

“Is this about the other day?” There really isn't any beating around the bush with Ladybug, something that Chat's normally happy about. Now though, she wishes Ladybug could have a bit more tact. Just a bit.

Chat's lips pull back in a grimace. “Maybe,” she mutters, “but does it really matter why?”

“... I suppose not,” Ladybug concedes after a moment. “How long were you thinking?”

A small part of her -the selfish part deep down inside that Chat tries not to think about- wishes that Ladybug would fight to keep Chat by her side. But mostly she's relieved. “A week. Two at the most.”

“Okay. That's... That sounds alright.” Ladybug nods, the motion jerky. She's upset, Chat knows it. But she also knows that Ladybug won't say a word and for that she's thankful. “You need to take care of yourself, chaton, I understand.” Chat can hear the underlying words. 

_You need time to move on._

Which she does. Still, when Ladybug asks if she's up for finishing their patrol, she answers with an affirmative “always.” And as always, her heart flips in her chest at the smile sent her way. 

… She's never going to move on. Chat only hopes that time away will dull the pain to something lesser and more manageable than the stabbing feeling she gets when she so much as thinks about her partner.

There are no akumas, a rarity nowadays. The patrol comes to an uneventful end near the river Seine as they both touch down on the bridge that had become their unofficial ending point each night. Paris echoes all around them, but muted somehow, as if she and Ladybug are stuck in their own little bubble. Leaning against the railing, Chat stares down into the water. Her reflection stares back, small and blurry and just a little broken.

“Chat?”

She doesn't look up. “Yes?”

“You'll be okay, won't you?”

“I always am, my... Ladybug.”

A spotted hand rests on hers for a moment. In the water, Chat can make out Ladybug's form beside hers, leaning against the black figure. She's warm against Chat even through their suits, and Chat can't help but sigh with pleasure. Her eyes close.

Silence reigns, calm and peaceful. She's not sure when, but at some point Ladybug's hand had crept up to touch her hair. Soft, gentle strokes that had her smiling in spite of everything. Chat's not sure how long they stand there, but she savors every second of it, unwilling to be the one to pull away. 

The petting stops after a while, and warm lips touch her cheek.

Green eyes shoot wide open.

“I'll miss you, chaton. Please feel better soon.” The words are whispered against her ear, making her shiver. She nods dumbly, and soon enough Ladybug is gone. She's alone again.

Her eyes burn. 

Clenched fists come down on sturdy metal and the whole bridge rattles beneath her, railing warped and bent under her strength. That's not all that rattles either, as Chat hears dozens upon dozens of locks that line the bridge banging against each other. Padlocks of every shape, size, and color are clipped onto the metal grilles that make up the sides of the bridge, proclaiming the undying love of the couples that had locked them. Even with the poor light from the streetlamps, she can make out names and dates etched onto the locks.

She wonders just how many there are. How many keys lay rusted at the bottom of the Seine, tiny scraps of metal meant to symbolize unbreakable love when really, they were nothing more than litter. How many people had thrown away the key, expecting their love and happiness to last forever, only for fate to have different plans.

A low keening sound fills the air, and it takes Chat a few seconds to realize it's from her. Her hands are hurting, not from hitting the railing but as the result of sharp claws pricking delicate skin. Blood wells up from the small slits made in her gloves, dark as tar in the waning moonlight. 

The bridge is is still deserted as she makes her way further down the bridge, searching blindly. Clawed hands touch lock after lock before they wrap around a single one. It's small and unassuming, a dull silver marred by a red blur. The remnants of a ladybug, washed away by time and weather. Chat kneels down, clutching it desperately. Blood smears the ladybug even further, leaving it unrecognizable.

It hurts.

The paw print on her ring glows a bright neon green even as darkness writhes around her hands. It dances and flickers in front of her eyes, the world's most destructive force. It scares her sometimes to think about it, but it's true. The power of bad luck, the ability to destroy anything she touches, no matter how big or small. Left in the hands of a teenager. How laughable.

Between her fingers, the lock breaks down, metal rusting away rapidly before crumbling to nothing.

Her ring beeps at her after a few minutes, the toes on the paw disappearing one by one, but she can't find it in her to move. The transformation wears off. Her kwami appears, looking disgruntled.

Kneeling on the ground with bleeding hands and a bleeding heart, Adrienne weeps.


	4. Chapter Four

Adrienne's friends hold a special place in her heart, as broken as it might be. Sure, she might not have many friends -she can count them all on one hand- but they're hers and she cares for them all deeply. 

Chloe was her first (and only) friend for the longest time. Sure, she's spoiled, and pretentious, and rather... self centered, but Adrienne knows that she's a good person deep down.

Very, very deep down.

It shows in how Chloe always saves a seat for her at school. How Chloe brings extra food in her lunch for her sometimes (or gets Sabrina to offer hers, which Adrienne always politely declines). It shows in the way Chloe would stay on the phone with her for hours after Adrienne's mother died, and how Chloe held her after that and let her cry into expensive cashmere and silk without complaining even once. 

So yes, Chloe can be spoiled and self centered and downright awful most of the time, but Adrienne knows that she has a softer side that shows, even if it's only rarely.

Besides Chloe, there's Nino. Her best friend. Her 'bro friend' as he likes to call himself, much to her exasperation and Nino's amusement. She couldn't ask for a better best friend. He gets her, cares about her enough that he's stood up to her father more than once on her behalf. Cares about her enough to ask her what's wrong and how her day's going and hey man, would you like to listen to this mix I just made?

Speaking of his music... It makes her happy knowing that she's the one who gets to hear it first, before anyone else does. Like he's sharing a piece of his soul with her, because she's special to him. She knows that she's not the greatest friend -she disappears on him routinely thanks to akumas ruining the day- but he never holds it against her. Just gives her a grin and a thumbs up when she appears again, holding out his headphones for her to put on. He's her best friend, her platonic soulmate, her... brother from another mother, as Nino put it.

Nathalie asked Adrienne once if she was dating Nino. The look of horror on her face was rather telling.

While not as close to her, Adrienne considers Alya to be a friend. One that she's interested in getting to know better. Alya's smart and funny, and takes nothing from anyone. She's seen Alya stand up to Chloe before, more than once, and if that doesn't show true courage, she's not sure what does. It helps too that Alya doesn't see her as 'Adrienne Agreste, fashion model' or 'Adrienne Agreste, heiress to the Gabriel company' but as Adrienne Agreste, person.

Plus, she's pretty sure Nino has a giant crush on Alya, so there's that.

Finally, there's Marinette. Adrienne can't help but wonder some days how someone as cheerful and bubbly as Marinette can exist. 

Or as clumsy.

She finds it rather cute, actually, even if it is a bit worrying. Marinette is so sweet and shy and awkward around her, always tripping over her words and blushing. Adrienne gets it though; as Paris' up and coming model, as well as being heiress to one of the world's biggest fashion companies, she can be rather intimidating to talk to. She doesn't mean to be, but she doesn't fault Marinette for being nervous around her. Especially considering who her father is and Marinette's dreams of being a fashion designer. 

Lately though, she's been getting to know Marinette a lot better. Not as Adrienne, but as Chat Noire. After the whole Dessinateur fiasco, when their classmate had turned into an artistic akuma who wanted to woo Marinette, she had been assigned to protect the blue haired girl by Ladybug. And during that time, had gotten to talk to Marinette without her reputation getting in the way.

They'd gotten along swimmingly. So much so in fact, that Chat had taken to dropping by Marinette's roof every so often to talk to her, just as friends.

Well, and some flirting, because Chat really can't help herself around cute girls and Marinette is definitely cute -even if Ladybug is cuter- and she can see why Nino liked her at one point. Adrienne can still recall the day they all went to the zoo, where she hid in the bushes like a weirdo to coach Nino into talking to Marinette... Definitely not her finest moment.

Honestly, the things she does for that boy.

She's still not certain why Nino dropped his quest to woo Marinette in favor of Alya, but figures it has something to do with him and Alya being trapped in a cage for a few hours together while she and Ladybug took care of an akumatized zookeeper. What else is there to do in that situation besides getting to know each other?

Besides Ladybug though, Marinette is the only person that she could definitively call Chat Noire's friend, a title that even Nino didn't share. She has plenty of admirers and fans, but she's pretty certain Marinette is the only person that she's actually talked to more than once about things other than hero business (she's also rather surprised at how much she's come to rely on Marinette for advice and keeping her mood afloat when things were looking down).

So it's for these reasons that Chat finds herself hoping -praying- for Marinette to come out onto her roof for some fresh air. While she's technically still in the middle of her vacation (Paris seems to be in the middle of a meltdown, she's seen several headlines ranging from her and Ladybug having a fight, to her fleeing the country, to her dying in combat) she can't help but go out and enjoy the freedom that being Chat brings.

Especially when there's no freedom to be had as Adrienne.

Lady luck is on her side for once, as Marinette's head pops up from her room. Pleased, Chat jumps over from the rooftop she was standing on, coming to rest on the railing around Marinette's balcony with nary a sound, as silent as her namesake. A smirk plays on her lips as she waits for her friend to notice her, mentally counting down the seconds until-

_“Chat!”_

“That's my name, princess.”

Marinette's clutching her chest, a scowl on her face that quickly morphs into a warm smile. “I'm glad to see you. I heard you had... disappeared. One of the newspapers said that you had turned into an actual cat during the full moon and run off into the night.”

Chat stares. Blinks. “I can neither confirm nor deny the accuracy of that statement.” 

She gets a light shove for that response, something that has her smiling the slightest bit. It's hard to smile nowadays, what with everything that's happened. The wound is still fresh, barely scabbed over, and every thought of Ladybug brings a twinge of pain with it. Chat wonders if it will ever heal fully.

She doubts it.

“Chat?”

Broken from her thoughts, Chat looks up. Marinette's standing there awkwardly, thumbs twiddling. “Did you... want to come inside? I could use some help on a project I'm working on.”

That's another nice thing about coming to visit. Marinette always has something going on, whether it's sewing a dress or knitting a scarf or gluing rhinestones onto fabric. Chat loves coming by to help and just... be useful without having to think.

Slipping down from her perch, Chat follows the other girl inside, ducking under the pane of glass as she does so. The first time she had visited, she hadn't noticed it and received a bump on the head as payment. Still, it had been worth it to hear Marinette's laughter.

Speaking of, Marinette is laughing now. Sending a quizzical look at her friend, Chat's perplexed to see her covering her face, shoulders shaking. “What's so funny, princess?”

“The look on your face! You're acting like the window beat you up, you're glaring so hard!” 

“It did beat me up!”

“That was your own fault!”

“Yeah, well... shut up.”

Slinking over to the couch, Chat sprawls on her back and tilts her head over the edge, looking around the room. While it's far too pink for her taste, she can't help but admire just how nice it is here. It's lived in and warm and just so very Marinette. Fabrics and clothes litter the floor and desk, and she can see little nicks and scratches on the floor and walls. 

And even from here, Chat can smell sugar and baked goods wafting up from the trapdoor. From what little she's seen of the rest of the house, every bit of it is just as warm and lived in. It's not just a house, but a home as well.

She loves it.

It's a stark contrast from her place, where every part of her house except her room is cold and unwelcoming. Picture perfect, home to no one but the ghosts from her past. If she's being honest with herself, she can't stand it, because what use is a mansion with only two people to live in it? And, more often than not, it's only one.

Her.

Some days Chat's not even certain her father is home. He could be, for all she knows, but she never sees him. Family meals are no longer a thing, haven't been for years, really. She eats alone or with Nathalie or the Gorilla, overseeing wardens that keep watch over her on her father's behalf, while he eats alone in his study. Or out at restaurants with businessmen.

But never with his daughter. 

She jolts in place when the couch dips down beside her, nearly rolling off in her panic. Marinette's looking at her, teeth worrying her lower lip and eyes shining with some emotion that Chat can't quite put her finger on.

Rolling onto her side, she quirks an eyebrow. “What's wrong, princess?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, Chat Noire. You seem... sad.” Marinette's voice is soft and gentle. She wants an answer but won't push for one, and for that, Chat is grateful.

So she laughs, waving off Marinette's words as she hops to her feet. “I'm fine. What are we working on today?”

Marinette obviously doesn't believe her, but doesn't press any further, instead leading her over to her desk and patting a chair. Chat sits and waits, watching as her friend bustles around the room, gathering materials before instructing Chat to “hold out your hands.” She does so, watching with amusement as Marinette starts to wind green yarn around them, around and around and around until Chat can't see her fingers anymore. It's a pretty green, not so bright as to be obnoxious, but not too dark either.

Wiggling her eyebrows, Chat looks from Marinette to the yarn and back again. “If you wanted to tie me up, there were easier ways to do it you know.”

“Chat Noire!”

Giggles echo through the room as Marinette's face turns bright red, spluttering denials. Chat waits a beat, then goes in for the kill. “I prefer handcuffs, personally.”

_“Chat!”_

Leaning back in her chair, Chat finally can't help but smile for real. It's hard to stay upset when she has Marinette to talk to and tease. Eventually Marinette comes back over, a pair of knitting needles in hand. She settles down in the chair beside Chat's, and without saying anything Chat offers her yarn bound hands. Whatever she's working on has already been started, but Chat can't quite tell what it is yet.

Hours go by in silence, the only sounds coming from a small radio set to low and the clacking of Marinette's knitting needles.

It's not awkward though, not the painful kind of silence that she's so familiar with at her house. This silence has no expectation to be filled, and she knows she could break it at any time if she wanted to. This silence is warm and comfortable just like everything about Marinette and her home and Chat likes it, being able to come over and just... be. Without any expectation placed on her to do or say anything. As she watches, the fruits of Marinette's labor soon become recognizable.

A hat.

She wonders who it's for, but can't bring herself to ask. Instead, she focuses on the way Marinette's fingers are working the yarn, over and under and around in a blur of motion. Chat can't help but be impressed at the speed she's going -she tried knitting once, but it wound up a tangled mess when she discovered she didn't have the patience for it- but guesses that Marinette's probably been doing this for years and has mastered the art of knitting by now. 

She came here for a reason though. 

To talk. 

But... Chat can't find it in herself to do so. She doesn't want to ruin the peace or bring the mood down or burden Marinette with her problems. So instead of talking, she finds herself drifting, not quite asleep and not quite awake. A peaceful state of tranquility that she can never quite manage when she's alone. 

It's only when she can no longer hear the sounds of knitting needles that she blinks her eyes open. Marinette has stopped, hands resting in her lap as she looks at Chat with...

She's looking at her like...

Chat's heart lurches.

The moment passes. Marinette turns her head and discreetly wipes her eyes, and Chat does her best pretending not to notice. “Did you know that you purr in your sleep, kitty?”

“I do not.” She's not sure what put such sadness in Marinette's eyes. What could have possibly brought her friend such pain in that moment, because it's not like Marinette has much to worry about other than school and family and friends.

(Well, maybe she does. Chat shouldn't make assumptions like that, she doesn't know Marinette's life.)

She's just not sure why it came up now.

“You do, it's cute.” Marinette stands, stretching her arms above her head. The amount of yarn around Chat's hands is considerably less than when they started, and she holds them out to Marinette with a pout. She's pretty sure Marinette goes slower then she has to because of it, but she won't complain. 

Finally, when she's free, Chat stands up as well and rolls her shoulders. A glance at the clock indicates she's been at Marinette's for a little more than three hours, not bad. “Well princess, this cat should hit the road.”

“Wait!”

Already turned to leave, she's surprised when she hears a crash behind her and spins around quickly. Marinette is slumped over the couch, hand outstretched and face pink. Green yarn is tangled around her ankles, and Chat honestly can't quite figure out how she managed _that._

Snickering, Chat kneels beside Marinette and takes one leg in her hand, unwrapping the yarn from around her feet with nimble fingers. Above her, as Marinette settles to sit on the couch, Chat can feel her gaze. It's heavy on her shoulders and she doesn't know why, but suddenly she feels nervous and can't look up to meet Marinette's eyes.

“You really ought to be more careful...” she mumbles instead. The last of the yarn is wound up into a neat compact ball, and without looking up, she holds it out to Marinette. It's stupid. She doesn't know why she suddenly feels scared because it's Marinette for god's sake, she's harmless and it's not like she bears Chat any ill will, but the need to run is almost overwhelming, choking her with delicate hands and too blue eyes and-

The small, shaking weight of the yarn is plucked from her palm and replaced with something else. 

The hat.

Confused, she looks up.

Marinette's looking back at her with that... look again. The one that makes Chat want to punch whatever put it there because Marinette should never be sad. It only lasts a few seconds before Marinette blinks and it's gone, replaced with a soft smile. 

And then even that's gone, because Chat's vision is obscured by fluffy green fabric. Not expecting it, she flails, squawking a little bit much to her chagrin. “Princess, why would you betray me like this!”

Though it's muffled by the hat, she can hear Marinette laugh. The hat is righted on head, Marinette's fingers gently probing underneath it to push her cat ears through openings Chat hadn't even noticed were there, until it's laying flat and covering every inch of blonde hair. “I don't think you can call it a betrayal, Chat. I made it for you.”

Oh.

“You... made it for me?” she repeats dumbly.

“Yeah, it's getting chilly and, well... I thought you could use something to cheer you up. It's not every day one of Paris' own superheroes goes missing. Something big must have happened to... make you go away.” Marinette's voice falters. Chokes up. Chat can see her eyes glisten. “I'm sorry.”

 _It's fine,_ is what she wants to say, but what comes out instead is a whispered “it wasn't your fault.” Because it's not Marinette's fault she's feeling like this. And lying to Marinette feels wrong, like kicking a puppy. “I'll be right as rain soon enough, I promise.”

Well... she was never fond of puppies.

White teeth bite into pink flesh as Marinette stands there, worrying her bottom lip and looking as conflicted as Chat's ever seen her. Then she nods slowly. “I hope so... Will you drop by again soon?”

“Of course.” 

Leaning forward, she wraps her arms around Marinette in a loose hug. The position is awkward, what with her kneeling and Marinette on the couch, but she makes it work. A hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, petting over the hat. “So... you like it?”

Chat grins wide enough to hurt. “I love it. Thank you. I've never had anyone make me something before.” Which is true. Everything she's ever gotten from anyone has always been bought. She's fairly certain the only exceptions were the birthday cakes made by the cooks at home... Not that she's complaining. She's not. She's grateful for every present received, store bought or not. It's just... different, knowing that Marinette put time and effort into making something for her, and it makes her feel giddy inside. 

“I'm glad.” 

A beep rings out, making her pull back slightly to glance at her hand. Her ring is blinking, one toe gone. “My time's almost up, I really need to go.”

There's a final squeeze before Marinette's arms loosen, dropping to her sides, and Chat stands up. The smile refuses to leave her face. “Thank you again. Really.”

“Any time, Chat. Take care.”

Chat winks. Blows a kiss. And then she's slipping out of Marinette's room, out onto the balcony, and out into the night.


End file.
